


all the barlights are blinking in time

by colonelcatastrophe



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colonelcatastrophe/pseuds/colonelcatastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac decides to gather all of his friends together for the first time in order to have a birthday celebration at his favorite club. Hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at Les Mis fanfiction (and published fanfiction in general, actually), so... sorry in advance, haha.

“Who’s that?” Grantaire asked breathlessly. Courfeyrac took his drink from the bartender, nodding his thanks and sliding five quid towards the man before turning around to see Grantaire staring at their table in the corner, his mouth agape. 

Courfeyrac’s eyebrows shot up. “Did I not mention? I invited some of my uni friends. The more the merrier, yeah? Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Grantaire shut his mouth and nodded wordlessly, his eyes bright and his drink momentarily forgotten. Courfeyrac smirked at the mesmerized look on his friend’s face before leading the way through the crowded club to their corner. 

Jehan was leaning up against the tall table already covered in empty glasses, laughing with one of the new additions to their group. He looked up as Courfeyrac and Grantaire approached. “Courf! These are your friends, I believe,” he said, gesturing to the three men who were still wearing their coats. Courfeyrac was already tackling all three of them into a hug as Jehan spoke. 

“I’m so glad you could make it,” he told them enthusiastically, clasping his hands together. “Introductions are in order, I think. This is Jehan, whom you’ve already met, clearly…” Jehan smiled kindly. “Errr, Feuilly is over at the bar, I think… he was flirting over there a while ago, so he might not be back, but I gave him permission to do whatever he deemed necessary, so it’s fine. Bossuet is over there dancing somewhere,” he nodded towards the packed dance floor. “And this is Grantaire,” he said, turning around and grabbing his arm to pull him into the group. Grantaire gave a little wave and took a drink self-consciously. Courfeyrac noticed that in addition to be uncharacteristically quiet, he had completely avoided looking anyone in the eye. Oh, this was going to be fun. 

He grinned and continued the introductions. “And for your benefit, this is Joly,” he said, pointing to the scrawniest member of the group of men. Joly adjusted his glasses and blinked, looking a bit overwhelmed. “And these two are Combeferre and Enjolras.” 

The dark-haired man shoved Courfeyrac’s shoulder good-naturedly. “You think we would talk for a good ten minutes and not introduce ourselves? Plus, you were very clear in your directions. Right, Enjolras?” 

The last man cracked a smile and shrugged apologetically towards Jehan. “Courf told us to look for the man with flowers in his hair. He certainly didn’t lead us astray.” Jehan laughed lightly and reached up to feel the flowers that were now wilting under the heat of the club. “I hope you don’t mind us barging in on your night out.” 

“Nonsense,” said Jehan, waving his hand dismissively. “We always love making new acquaintances, don’t we, Grantaire?”

Courfeyrac saw that Grantaire was no longer avoiding eye contact but was now staring at Enjolras. He bumped his shoulder inconspicuously, but Grantaire didn’t seem to notice. Then he blinked and took a gulp of his drink before looking up and grinning. “Jehan’s right. If Courfeyrac gave you the stamp of approval, you can’t be half bad. So, Courf, what is it we’re celebrating again?” he asked brashly. “You finally getting laid? Oh, wait, that hasn’t happened yet.” 

Now that was the Grantaire he knew. “Ha bloody ha,” Courfeyrac replied. “You know I’ve gotten more action in the past week than you have in your entire existence. No… this, my friends,” he addressed all of them, “is a night to celebrate the fact that as of midnight tonight, I will no longer be a whiny, angst-ridden teenager.” He lifted his glass cheerfully. “To me!”

All of the men began to shout over each other, Jehan and Joly yelling birthday wishes and the others scolding him for not telling them sooner. “We would have brought you presents!” shouted Combeferre. 

“Or at least bought your drinks,” Grantaire said, looking at Courfeyrac sternly. “It’s a law that you’re not allowed to buy your own drinks on your birthday. Clearly, you don’t know anything about anything at all.” 

“Okay, so maybe I should have told you earlier.” Courfeyrac bounced on his toes excitedly. “But it’s too late for that. Tonight is my birthday and therefore I get to decide what we do. And I am deciding that you should stop yelling about how it’s my birthday and we should all get drunk and dance. All I want is for all of my friends to have fun together for one night. So step one is the alcohol consumption bit, step two will be the fun. Grantaire, the first round’s on you!” 

“First round?” Enjolras looked pointedly at the numerous empty glasses on the table already. Jehan bit his lip to keep from laughing. 

“You heard the man,” said Grantaire, already on his way to the bar. “You, come help me carry them.” He grabbed Joly, who happened to be the closest, and dragged him by the elbow towards the center of the club, as Joly looked back at Courfeyrac helplessly. 

Courfeyrac gave him a smile and a thumbs-up in encouragement as they disappeared into the crowd. He turned back around to see that Combeferre had already jumped back into conversation with Jehan about the merits of illegally downloading ebooks, with Enjolras interjecting passionately every so often. 

Yes, getting all of his friends together was a definitely a brilliant idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a rough idea of where I'm going to take this - and I know that the main pairing is E/R, but I might play with other pairings as well. I was going to stick with Courfeyrac's perspective all the way through and then fill in some bits later with one shots, but I kinda like the idea of having each chapter from the perspective of a different one of them? So I think the next chapter is going to be from Joly. We'll see. Also, I set this in London, because I've never been to Paris so I don't know what it's like. Whoops.
> 
> Also, constructive criticism is very welcome. I love all of Les Amis and I have extensive headcanon for them so if they get too out of character please let me know, since I want to stay at least loosely with their established personalities. :3 And you can leave me feedback on my tumblr (http://colonel-catastrophe.tumblr.com) as well, if you like. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

“How many drinks do you think we should get?” the man named Grantaire asked Joly once they reached the bar counter. “There’s three of you, and one of Courf, and one, two, three…” he counted on his fingers. “Four of us? I think? Errr, how many does that make? Eight?”

Joly nodded, then cleared his throat and spoke up. “Yeah, that’s probably fine. Though I should probably point out that between the two of us we only have four hands.” 

“You’re right. So basically, fuck this, we’re just getting a pitcher, or something.” Grantaire turned to negotiate with the closest bartender how to purchase vast amounts of some kind of mixed drink that Joly had never heard of, though he could tell that it sounded extraordinarily alcoholic. 

Joly glanced around at all of the other patrons of the bar who were all around them, either laughing, smoking, or drinking around the surrounding tables or sitting and socializing in the booths along the wall. This was most definitely not the place he would have chosen to spend his Friday night, with music so loud that the floor was vibrating, so dark and filled with cigarette smoke that the only things in the room he could really see were the blinking neon signs hanging from the ceiling, and with so many people in one vicinity that he was already sweating. He shuddered to think about the amount of sweat he would come into contact with if he even set foot on the dance floor. But Courfeyrac had asked him to come, and he wouldn’t say no to a friend. Plus, Joly was always telling himself that he needed to get out more. He could have a good time… he hoped. 

“So,” said Grantaire, while the bartender began mixing their concoction. “You go to school with Courf?” 

“Um, yes,” Joly stammered. “We… had a history class together, last semester. He and I. And Combeferre and Enjolras too. We were all paired up for a research project, actually. Otherwise we might not have gotten to know each other very well.” He drummed his fingers absentmindedly on the sticky bar for a moment before pulling them back. "And, uh, now we're all friends. It was lucky."

“Cool, I guess.” Grantaire nodded. They descended into a surprisingly comfortable silence for a few moments, watching the bartender and listening to the rock song that was currently playing, before Grantaire spoke up again. “I kinda feel bad… I mean, I’ve known Courfeyrac for years. I should have known it was his birthday.”

“I think I did see something about it on Facebook, actually, that it was coming up… but I had forgotten,” Joly admitted. 

Grantaire snorted. “Facebook. Pssh. I don’t have one. I have to deal with my friends enough during the day, I don’t need to hear about their lives when I’m finally alone. Honestly.” Joly chuckled quietly. “But I do use it to… what’s the colloquial phrase, Facebook-stalk? On occasion. So it does have its uses.” He broke off, before muttering under his breath something about needing an angel’s full name. 

Joly squinted at him from behind his glasses. “What did you say?”

Grantaire looked back up and grinned. “Nothing important. So, are you ready to get your party on?” he asked as the bartender passed over a giant pitcher of a yellowish-orange liquid. 

Joly nodded seriously. “Yes, as long as my ‘party’ doesn’t entail any dancing.” 

As he left the bar empty-handed and headed around the floor back to their corner, he felt Grantaire slap him on the back with his one free hand. “We’ll get you on the dance floor before the end of the night, my friend. Don’t worry,” he said, louder now that they were closer to the speakers. 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Joly shouted back, though a smile was on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did end up going with Joly's perspective. Maybe Jehan's for the next chapter? Though it may not be up for a few days. 
> 
> Comments/suggestions/criticism are all very welcome. :3


	3. Chapter 3

Combeferre grabbed one of the now-empty glasses on the table and filled it with some of whatever was in the pitcher that Grantaire had acquired at the bar. He downed it in one long drink, his tongue tingling afterward. He was having a surprisingly great time so far, as this Jehan had proved to be a more-than-adequate conversation partner. 

How lucky was he that Courfeyrac’s friend didn’t mind discussing intellectual topics in what was arguably a dodgy bar? And Jehan was even making some frankly ingenious points about their current literary discussion, though he had started drinking much earlier in the night. Even Enjolras, the king of debate, seemed impressed with Jehan’s ability to hold his own in their exchange of ideas.

“What do you do, Jehan?” Combeferre asked suddenly, breaking from their stream of banter. “I’m just curious.” 

Jehan reached up to twist his long hair around one of his fingers. “I’m a poet,” he said. “I mean, not published, but one day I hope I will be.” Courfeyrac slung his arm over Jehan’s shoulders and patter him on the back supportively. “Until then, or maybe even after, I work at an independent bookstore down the road from here.” 

Combeferre’s eyes lit up. With Jehan’s sweetness and honesty and apparent penchant for florals, being a poet seemed to fit him perfectly. “Poetry? What kind of style do you write in?” 

Jehan opened his mouth to answer when a vaguely country-sounding song began to stream through the speakers. Loud cheers rang out through the crowd as seemingly everyone in the room, whether at the bar counter or on the dance floor, began to sing along. “Why does everyone in this bar know the words to this song?” asked Joly, confused. 

“I know the words and I don’t even know where Alabama _is_ ,” said Grantaire. “Don’t question it. Just accept it and enjoy the moment.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Just accept it? That’s terrible advice… and not a very productive way of going through life.”

“Says you!” Grantaire grinned. “If you spend all your time worrying about things you don’t understand, you miss out on everything else.” Combeferre gave Enjolras a warning look, to remind him that he had agreed to try to avoid arguments this evening, for Courfeyrac’s sake. He had done well in their conversation with Jehan, though there was really nothing to argue, but he had hoped Enjolras could keep up the good behavior for the rest of the evening. Of course, he should have known that his friend would never give up a chance to defend a differing opinion. 

“But that’s absurd,” said Enjolras passionately, leaning in closer. “You can’t possibly appreciate anything in this world just by observing it passively!”

Grantaire took another drink and laughed. “I’m not saying be a passive observer. I’m just saying that you can experience something without asking a million questions and overanalyzing it. That kills the experience completely.”

“But in the…” Enjolras crossed his arms and started, before getting cut off by Courfeyrac, who held up his hands. Combeferre tried not to laugh. It wasn’t funny, the way that Enjolras was glaring at Grantaire and Grantaire was smirking in return. It really wasn’t. 

“Now, now, no bickering is allowed at this table,” said Courfeyrac. “The live band’ll be starting up soon, which means it’s almost time to dance. As in, even if you do not want to dance, you will be forcibly dragged to the dance floor and required to participate.” He eyed both Enjolras and Joly pointedly. Combeferre winked at him, in assurance that he would assist in getting the more reluctant members of their party to join in the fun. 

Grantaire slammed his glass down on the table. “Why can’t we dance now, hmm?” he asked brightly, holding a hand out to Jehan. “Mr. Prouvaire, since you’re the only one of us other than the birthday boy here who I _know_ will dance, would you care to accompany me to the dance floor?” Jehan laughed, then took Grantaire’s hand and let him lead them toward the mass of writhing bodies in the center of the room, where they began to move in time with the beat. Comebeferre was surprised to see that both of them were decent dancers, even despite – or maybe because of - Grantaire’s obvious level of intoxication.

“You know what?” said Combeferre to Courfeyrac innocently, after watching Grantaire and Jehan for a few moments. “I think that your friend Grantaire actually has the right idea.” He grabbed Enjolras, who sighed and followed without protest to join the two already on the floor. Courfeyrac was right behind, with Joly in tow. 

They melded into the group of men and women moving against each other and dancing like this was the last night of their lives. There were too many people in the bar for all of the boys to remain next to each other, but they managed to continue dancing in the same general area of the room, and Combeferre grinned when he caught the eye of each member of Courfeyrac’s group every so often. Together, with strangers and friends, under the haze of smoke and the influence of alcohol, they let the music take them - and Combeferre realized that this must be what it meant to be young and free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY I couldn't help writing one last chapter tonight. I thought for a moment that I was making Combeferre a bit too happy and lighthearted but then I realized that was just cruel, so I let him stay happy for the time being.
> 
> I am thinking that I am going to end up shipping Jehan and either Courf or Combeferre in this, though I also have a soft spot for Combeferre/Eponine? And I know Eponine'll show up eventually. Ugh, too many ships to choose from. Though Joly/Bossuet is coming. Plus Musichetta, obviously. :3
> 
> Comments/suggestions/etc definitely welcome. I hope that someone is enjoying this other than me? Though even if it is just me, I still won't complain. Haha.


	4. Chapter 4

“You like him, don’t you?” Jehan asked Grantaire, grinning as they fell into the easy rhythm of the music. They were close enough that Jehan didn’t have to yell to be heard over the song’s pulsing beat. The floor was sticky with spilled alcohol, but Jehan moved as gracefully as falling water. Uninterested in the impressed stares he was getting from the men and women surrounding them on the dance floor, he prodded his friend again. “Well?”

Grantaire forced a laugh but continued to dance. “Who, now?”

Jehan gently pushed him further into the crowd of dancers. “You know who I’m talking about.” While he was chatting with Combeferre at the table, he couldn’t help noticing that Grantaire was enraptured not so much in the conversation as in one of the other men who had joined them, Enjolras. The man was gorgeous, Jehan couldn’t deny, but there was something more. Whenever he opened his mouth to speak, Grantaire stared at him as if he held the answers to the universe, and when he uttered a word, Grantaire looked as though he had been given the key to the gates of paradise. Grantaire may have been trying to be subtle about his obvious attraction, but Jehan knew him too well for that. 

He grabbed Grantaire’s hand again and pulled him closer, ignoring the widening of Grantaire’s eyes. “It’s alright, you know,” he whispered into his ear, shooting a glance at their companions who were now walking over to join them. “I can tell that he captivates you. The only question is… what are you going to do about it?” He pulled back and gave his friend a smile of encouragement. Enjolras certainly seemed on the opposite spectrum of personality from Grantaire, but… there was some kind of connection there, especially apparent when they argued. Jehan was sure of it.

He only received a wry smile in return, as Grantaire shook his head, his curly dark hair flying in all directions, chaos personified. “Only time will tell, I ‘spose,” he said, pulling slightly apart from Jehan but not letting go of his hand. Jehan spun them around to face the direction of their friends. 

Courfeyrac was nearly doubled over in laughter as Combeferre attempted to shimmy to the hip-hop song currently playing, with Joly standing by and suffering what seemed to be extreme secondhand embarrassment. Enjolras rolled his eyes, but he was smiling and dancing as well, though less obtrusively. Jehan laughed as well, but stayed with Grantaire. 

After a song or two, though, he subtly moved closer to Grantaire and with one hard shove sent him towards where Enjolras was situated, since he obviously wasn’t going to go over there on his own. He tried not to chuckle as Grantaire stumbled into the other man’s path and began to apologize profusely. Enjolras bit back a smile and responded with something Jehan couldn’t hear over the music. 

His self-imposed job completed, and completed successfully, Jehan glanced over to where Courfeyrac was now dancing intensely. He fondly hoped that Courf was having a good birthday, especially because he was such a truly good person. He of all people deserved to have a lovely night. Jehan was surprised, though, to see that Courfeyrac hadn’t found a dance partner yet. Usually by this part of the evening he would be all over some strange girl, or numerous other girls would be all over him. Not that Jehan could blame them, of course. 

Emboldened by whatever they had been drinking from the bar, Jehan decided that it wasn’t fair that Courfeyrac didn’t have someone to dance with tonight, arguably the most important of all days of the year to actually have a good time, so he sidled over to his friend. Courfeyrac stopped completely as Jehan approached. “No need to stop on my account,” said Jehan sweetly, cocking his head and stepping closer. “Care to dance?” 

Courfeyrac’s face, glistening with sweat, visibly seemed to brighten at the thought. “Of course. As long as your poetry about me doesn’t all of a sudden get filled with rhymes about my inability to keep rhythm,” he laughed. 

Jehan stepped in front of him and turned around, beginning to grind his hips back and forth. He felt Courfeyrac move closer behind him until they were pressed against each other. Looking up at the blinking lights above them, Jehan smiled beatifically. “Who says I’ll write poems about you at all?” he teased. 

“No one… though I hope you do,” came a serious voice in his ear. He shivered and spun around to face his friend. 

Courfeyrac’s face was unreadable as they stood still, the only two unmoving dancers on the floor. “Then I will,” Jehan said simply. He gently leaned in and pecked Courfeyrac on the cheek, then stepped back and beamed suddenly. “Oh, I love this song!” 

Courfeyrac’s face broke into a grin, unable to resist Jehan’s contagious enthusiasm. “What are we doing standing still, then?” he said, beginning to bop once again, the smile never disappearing from his face as Jehan jumped up and down, joining him. A small part of Jehan’s mind wondered what he was doing, with Courf – but then decided that whatever it was, he would accept it while he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn't resist the allure of Courf/Jehan. No regrets.
> 
> I haven't decided who I'm doing next - probably Feuilly or Bossuet. It'll be fun, 'cause neither of them have appeared in the story yet.
> 
> Also, how cute is Jehan? Jean Prouvaire is my favorite Ami. I don't know if that's obvious.
> 
> Any critiques/suggestions/comments would be super welcome. Thanks for reading!


End file.
